The Long and Lonely Road
by The Wonk
Summary: I don't have a story in mind. just words on pages so far. I'm basically gonna have Kohta hook up with lots of chicks and have him kill a lot of folks. Good times. Oh, and he's going to be suffering anguish upon anguish cuz that's how I roll.


**Chapter 1: "this is my weapon, this is my gun..."**

**AN: Don't own the rights to the story or the character. It's just for fits and giggles. Hope you enjoy. Reviews are welcomed. I'll also be throwing random characters from other Mangas (also for fits and giggles). **

Seven against the world.

That's how it felt for Kohta Hirana as he zeroed the gun sights of his AR-10 on one of "them." For whatever reason, his friends had never given a name to the reanimated corpses that had ravaged the world. Undead, zombies, ghouls. They were always referred to as "them." That is until they received a radio communication from Danjūrō Eiga, Dan-kun for short. He called them zed. A term he picked up from an American novel about a zombie apocalypse. "Fitting, right?" he chortled over the radio.

Takashi Komura, Kohta's friend and leader of their group, decided that they had a better chance of surviving if they linked up with other survivors. Dan-kun, a friend of Takashi back in their elementary school days, had a similar thought, which is why he was broadcasting his group's location over the radio.

Takashi turned to his group and asked, "should we go?" Six heads, including Kohta's, nodded affirmative.

It was noon when the group left their sanctuary in an abandoned convenient store. Takashi and Saeko Bushujima, the sword mistress, took forward positions: the tip of the spear. Rei Miyamoto wasn't far behind with her makeshift naginata, guarding the school nurse, Shizuka Marwikawa, and the resident genius, Saya Takagi. Armed with an illegally modified Ar-10 assault rifle was Kohta, serving as the group's over watch. And always standing beside him on a bike was little Alice Moresato, holding a bag full of ammunition, ready to support the group's sharpshooter.

Takashi and Saeko hurried up the street, their movements were practiced and honed by combat. Keep silent, keep your eyes and ears open. That was their mantra. The streets lay seemingly deserted, but every car or entrance could be hiding one of "them." And all it took was one of those accursed beings to moan to attract the others.

"Shit," muttered Takashi as he saw one of the zed, a crawler, trying to grab at him from beneath a pile of garbage. On instinct, Takashi brought down his aluminum bat crashing down on the crawler's head, making a sick, crunching sound.

A few feet away, hidden in the shadow behind the broken window of a pet shop, a lurker heard the sound. Instinctively, the creature reacted and let loose the distinct wailing of the dead. "Fuck monkey shit," cursed Takashi as he ran towards the storefront and once again let loose the bat, hoping he was able to dispatch the lurker before he could attract others. His hopes would be quickly dashed.

The sound was faint at first, but began to grow as the seconds passed. First it was just a single voice, but then others joined in, until the low din became a chorus of ghoulish moans that would forever haunt the teens' nightmares.

Takashi knew that their only hope was to make it to the high rise a few blocks north of their position.

He made eye contact with each of his friends, and with a single look, communicated his intent. "We're going to run."

A dozen of the undead had gathered in front of them, more were pouring in from behind, all hungry for human flesh. Gripping hard his bat, Takashi roared, "Kohta," signaling to his friend to plow the road for him.

With a cocky grin, Kohta yelled back, "ROGER!" He raised his rifle and started firing. One bullet, one kill. Words he lived religiously by. Heads began to explode all around Takashi as he sprinted forward, Saeko and Rei following suit. "Take them down before they can bunch up," he yelled out, swinging his bat with purpose. But the ladies did not need reminding on how to deliver death to the dead.

With skill and power befitting the samurai of old, they launched themselves against the horde. Rei plowed through the dead with her naginata, bashing brains and piercing skulls with brutal efficiency. Saeko, with a ballerina's grace, danced among the dead, slashing and slicing through her opponents with almost ethereal beauty.

The nurse and Saya, a few feet behind them and armed with handguns, fired at any stragglers that got past their melee fighters.

Kohta remained behind, standing, aiming, along with the young Alice, sitting on top of her bike. This was his purpose as over watch, to watch over his friends by killing the enemy from long distance.

One of the zeds was closing in on Saeko's left flank.

Kohta let go of the breath he was holding and squeezed the trigger. Saeko was surprised by the wet sound of bullet impacting cranium from her left. Turning her head slightly, she could see the mangled body of a former highschool cheerleader crumple to the ground. Pausing for just a moment, with a thumbs up, she signaled to their "overwatch" her gratitude. "Look at that," little Alice chirped, "you're a hero."

Kohta did not respond, save for a tiny blush forming on his cheeks. Instead, he shifted his attention to the next target. But in the back of his mind, away from the battle, a single thought.

Kohta Hirano was no hero or at least he wasn't supposed to be one.

He was fat, unpopular, and had an unhealthy obsession with guns. Bullies picked on him. Girls ignored him. And his only friend was a former American Army Ranger with a penchant for booze and weapons who lived half a world away. If fate had gone differently, Kohta would probably have been just another maltreated youth, marginalized by a society that praised appearances over substance.

But then big bad zed came, bringing with him the ending of the old world. It had been three months since Kohta and his friends escaped their highschool-and the lives that they once knew-and began their desperate struggle to survive. And in that time, through trial by fire, Kohta had changed.

He was still afraid, still weak, but he learned to push the fear down and force his body to accept his will. It was a slow, but steady process, but gone was the flabby loser who feared the shadows of bigger men. Now, he walked as a veteran soldier with a grim self-confidence and an iron resolve forged in the fires of combat-at least on the battlefield.

But Kohta Hirano had no time to ponder his metamorphosis. He was on a mission. Acquire target and fire were his only thoughts. Little Alice Maresato, no more than 8 years old, chirped out, "3 0'clock." Without thought, Kohta swung the barrel of his illegally modified AR-10 a few degrees to the right and aligned his sights on the head of one of the zeds. In less than a breath, he pulled the trigger and downrange, a zed lost his head. Two more pulls led to two more exploding heads. "9'0 clock," she squawked again. "Good girl," Kohta exclaimed as he swung his barrel to the left to acquire the targets his spotter had so expertly selected.

In the weeks since they had rescued Alice from a horde of zeds, she had become Kohta's surrogate sister and partner-in-crime. "How would you like to be my spotter," he asked her. "Yay. I'm going to be your spotter...what's a spotter?" She replied. "Your job," explained Kohta, "is to tell me where "they" are, since I can only see what's directly ahead of me when I'm shooting. Also, you make sure that I always have bullets to fire, which you're already doing a fine job with." Since then, Alice took her role as "spotter" with gusto. Although young, Alice was both a brave and precocious child, so she took to Kohta's tactical training like a fish to water. "I'm out," Kohta shouted as he unloaded his spent clip and held his hand out. With expert timing, the young girl slapped a fully charged clip into his hand. A moment later, Kohta was again dispatching the enemy with clockwork precision, while Alice began charging the empty clip by hand, her eyes continuing to scan the battlefield.

It was then Alice noticed that zed was creeping close from behind. She tapped Kohta on the leg like they had rehearsed and reached into the basket attached to the front of the bike. Feeling her signal, Kohta dashed forward, running on the path created by his friends. He slung back his rifle and pulled out his sidearm, a Glock 19, and fired into the random enemy not cut down by the others. Meanwhile, Alice pulled out a string of firecrackers and lit the end. With all the strength she could muster, she hurled the "Saturday Special" behind the amassing dead, before riding off to regroup with Kohta.

The Saturday Special began to ignite, creating a ruckus of sight and sound, distracting the masses. Kohta fought the urge to look back; he had to focus on the run. Although he lost considerable weight thanks in part to their lack of food sources and constant physical activity, he was by no means as athletic as his compatriots.

Still, his job was done. He managed to thin out the approaching zed enough to give the melee fighters the opportunity to clear a path for the whole group. Now all he had to do was survive the run.

"Kohta," yelled Alice, as she rode past him, "hurry up." Giving her the thumbs up, he poured on more speed. "Alice, go to Saya. Protect her," he ordered. Seeing the way was clear, Alice replied, "aye aye captain" before speeding her way forward.

Suddenly, as Alice rode alongside a series of windows, the glass began to shatter. She managed to weave past the fragmenting shards, but was almost knocked off her bike by one of the many undead flooding into the street. However, the young girl had sharp skills and quick reflexes and so was able to make a hard stop, allowing the tumbling dead to fall before her. Before another could grab onto her, she quickly pedaled away, navigating the mess of writhing dead and sharp glass.

Before Alice could understand what was going on, she was flying over the handle bar. One of the zed heads had managed to kick her back tire, causing the bike to flip. Her eyes fluttered opened, only to see a gaping maw reeking with death. She screamed in terror as the dead hovered above her. But before the creature could feed, it's head exploded in a brilliant bloom of red.

"ALICE!"

It was Kohta in near panic, his rifle at the ready. His breathing heavy, his body fatigued. His aim was off and he was burning through bullets fast. But his only thought was of the little girl.

"ALICE! GET OUT OF THERE!"

Somehow, above the gunfigre, Alice could hear his words. Driven by some hidden power, she willed herself up, grimacing from the pain. She spied her bike a few feet away. The dead was near on top of her, but they were quickly felled by a fusillade of bullets. She lunged forward, grabbed her bike, and with a mad man's fury pedaled her way free. Elation filled her tiny heart as she saw her friends drawing nearer, until realization began to set in. Kohta was behind her.

He was behind her.

And "they" were in front of him.

She skidded the bike into a halt to find her friend. It took only a moment; her eyes did not fail her. She wished they had.

Kohta had stopped so he could take careful aim. He hadn't noticed how close the dead had been following him. Only when cold hands took hold of his head did he realize that he was going to die.

The woman was once an aspiring actress. She was beautiful and articulate. She had been one of the first to be infected when the outbreak began. Her face had been bitten off by her ex-husband.

Her teeth bore down on Kohta's shoulder for all to see.

The sound of his screams echoed throughout the dead city…along with the wailing of the dead.


End file.
